Broken Crown
by White Carnations
Summary: When you're the king of a dying empire on Planet Vegeta, you don't get to question what happens next and if you'll survive. You just know. That's the part you can't swallow. Oneshot.


A/N:

This is the third oneshot I've written and this time I've decided to highlight King Vegeta to go with my Bardock oneshot. He's always been one of my favorite characters, though I can't figure out why. Now, a little background information on this story and why I chose to write it the way I did.

I made the hard choice of including Tarble in this oneshot. I know, it's a strange angle to work with, but I really wanted to include him. Not only that, but I find it particularly difficult to believe that Tarble was 39 in the movie he appeared in, seeing as how that would mean Vegeta and Tarble never met (even though they recognized each other automatically and even knew each other's names). Keep in mind here that Vegeta was already with Frieza at the time Goku was born, and we can assume that he's been there for a while too, so what time would he have to see a new born brother anyway? That's the kind of timeline I brought to this oneshot. Nothing else in here should vary from the original series, however, since I'm not too fond of OOC's anyway.

**Warnings**: No sexual themes this time. Some touchy subjects involved though, such as suicide and death. Rated 'M' just in case.

Finally: There **will** be a sequel to this oneshot. Not sure if that sequel will also be a oneshot, though, or something longer. Either way, keep an eye out if you want more of King Vegeta. I love writing about his story!

Now, time to get on with the story! I hope you guys enjoy it and can look past my funky timeline rearranging!

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><p>'Broken Crown'<p>

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><p>The halls of the kingdom had never seemed so empty as they did now in all the ten plus years it had been around, looming darkly over the great Saiyan empire. The lights of the torches lining them seemed to continue the effect everywhere, and made it impossible to escape.<p>

A beautiful young woman sat at her throne, her black eyes watching her husband pace the floor carefully before she sighed internally.

"Vegeta..." she began, and waited patiently as he stopped pacing to lean his large form against the door frame. His wife studied his eyes, recognizing the distance and exhaustion all too well. She had seen that fierce darkness many a time before he went off on his missions. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to take Frieza's life with her bare hands.

Her husband was the king for goodness sakes! His eye contact alone was enough to stop a man cold. He was a warrior, and here now, all of that had instantly died. He was cowering to Frieza, and was being slung around by the collar like a beggar. All of the strength of the Saiyan race that he had previous held high on his shoulders had diminished greatly, and the king's worrisome attitude had the queen disturbed.

Silently and gracefully she stood, making sure not to irritate her husband beyond what he already was. Slowly, she reached out and lightly placed her hand on his shoulder. The touch made him wake from whatever reverie he found himself in. He raised his eyes to meet hers, a look of utter horror on his features.

"Frieza wants the boy." he said gruffly. He saw no reason for keeping the secret from her and even less so for sugar coating the truth. There was no emotion in his wife's eyes, but he knew what her heart was doing to her. After all, she'd given birth to this child, and now he was being forcibally ripped out of her arms. He should belong to her and her alone, not some disgusting trash like their...he couldn't even say it.

...Their _master._..

"Right." his wife commented curtly. She was obviously pissed, and the king couldn't do a thing about it. Instead, he kept his gaze glued to the ground as he felt his wife's hand rubbing his left shoulder. It was still sore from a previous mission that had involved quite a bit of battle. He closed his eyes slowly as he reminscesed that night. He'd come home to his wife and children with blood dripping down the side of his face from a wound on his head and a limp left arm. But of course, to go with the wounds came a grin of triumph and satisfaction. His victory had brought it to him.

"I'm going." he heard her whisper to him. Her hand slid down his armored chest fleetingly, and then was gone as her footsteps echoed down the hallway. He didn't need to think twice about where his woman was going.

'Wait.' he thought in his head. He wanted her to stop and listen. She'd always been so rash before, and he knew she would rather die than give in to whatever ridiculous order Frieza gave to her. 'The child...'

He sighed deeply and turned as he made his way down the halls, attempting to track her down before she did something stupid.

He rounded the corner and descended the staircase that led to his children's room, and found her standing in the open doorway. She didn't look at him, but he glared at her nonetheless.

"Woman..." he began sternly. She cut her eyes at him to let him know she wasn't about to listen, and simply stepped cautiously into the room. He sighed again, this time more quietly, and followed her.

The large window at the opposite side of the room let the light outside in and covered the bed that sat in the middle with a soft shine. The bed itself was monstrously big, and in it it held two sleeping children. The blankets were thick and warm, and tossed over the boys to keep them comfortable despite the cold of the night. The woman walked gently across the floor and stopped at the edge of the bed on the side where the oldest slept.

Her husband watched angrily as she sat down and placed a soft hand against her boy's cheek. Her eyes fell on her youngest, who was curled up in a ball beside the older one. He was a little under a year old, and was still so small to her. Most Saiyan children would have been twice his size already, but then again, his power level had shown that he clearly wouldn't become much of a warrior in the first place.

The older one, though...she could feel the strength coming off him in waves. No wonder Frieza wanted him so.

"He'll die Vegeta." she whispered softly to the air. She felt warm lips against her cheek and realized that he'd crept over to the bed beside her without her even knowing. But he was, after all, the most cunning, powerful, and stealthy of the Saiyans that currently lived on the planet. There was a reason he'd been declared the king all those years ago after the defeat of the Tuffles.

'Good breeding' her husband had called it. It was simply in the blood. She knew her son would be the same...if he would only live.

"How dare you say such a thing about my son?" he whispered back, his eyes closed as he settled his nose in the crook of her neck. He felt his wife shift so that she was facing him, and as expected, her hands went straight to the back of his neck to hold him there. She was seeking comfort; he wasn't stupid.

"Don't pretend you don't think the same Vegeta. His power level may be remarkable, but..." she stopped, and pursed her lips as fury filled her veins. The mere idea that her son would die at the hands of Frieza made her very blood boil. She knew, though, that no one stood a chance against that brute.

"He's not meant to be kept down. He's...a free child. If anyone could survive and find a way out of hell, it'd be him." the king said defiantly. His wife growled as she stroked the back of his neck. She wanted to believe him, but she didn't want to get her hopes up either.

"You spoil that boy with your stories." she said, averting the previous subject by bringing up a new one. The king chuckled softly and pulled back, his black eyes searching hers.

"Stories, woman? They were passed down by the ancesters of our race. Whether you believe in them or not is irrelevant to my purpose. I'm merely trying to instill motivation and desire in his heart. A prince must be fiery and full of devotion to his ultimate goal...it is the only way he'll survive at all." the king said. He trailed off and frowned as his eyes settled on his youngest.

Tarble was whimpering in his sleep. A hazy dream was beginning to haunt him, and he sought comfort from it by reaching out from his spot on the bed. The woman quickly pulled the boy into her arms and cradled her Saiyan son as he continued to whimper. She watched as the king pulled a face at the boy in her arms.

"He is weak." he commented coldly.

"He is your son." she said back. She smiled when his eyes immediately jerked away towards the window. He hated how his second born had turned out, but he couldn't avoid the emotion in his heart. It stirred every time he saw his boys.

"He must leave the planet." he said finally after a long, silent moment of thought. She nodded as she brushed his hair out of Tarble's eyes. The whole kingdom knew about Tarble, and Frieza himself had inquired about the youngest. No one except the most trusted soldiers knew about Tarble's low level, but that would change. The king planned on telling everyone soon when he announced Tarble's incidental release from the planet. He was being sent away to be safe. Everyone else would think it was merely out of necessity and shame. Frieza would turn his nose, and no one else would ask about the exile any longer. He'd be free.

When he'd first told her of his decision, she'd admittedly been furious and unrelenting. But over time, she knew what was best for Tarble. She just wished, now, that his brother could join him.

'But Frieza would have a fit if we pulled a stunt like that and would go after him anyhow.' she reasoned with herself, trying desperately to still her anxious heart. It was the only way.

"Vegeta, promise me something..." she whispered softly as she laid Tarble down next to his brother. She smiled as Tarble's tail immediately wrapped itself around the older prince's waist.

"Hm?" he grunted, watching his son's movements with slight interest. He ignored his wife's hands as they fell on his knee, her head leaning over to rest on his strong shoulder.

"Promise me that this is just a nightmare, and that they'll wake up from it someday. Promise me that they'll grow up and be able to freely do whatever their hearts desire. Promise me our children will _live_." she begged softly. He wrapped his arm around his wife's waist and buried his face in her dark hair.

"..."

He knew better than to make such a ludicrous vow like that, but his obligation to make her happy and ease her pain was more overwhelming than his natural incapability to lie. Softly, he spoke the words, 'yes, I promise' against her hair, and gently motioned for her to stand so they could leave. They both looked back at the sleeping princes with admiration and heartache, before leaving to bypass their sleeping quarters and opt to spend the night sulking in the throne room. They'd been doing that a lot lately.

The king sat heavily in his chair, and watched as his wife followed and seated herself in his lap, her arms draped about her husband's shoulders as she kissed his forehead. She wasn't being herself. But of course, nothing was normal about their lives as of late.

She couldn't turn back the clock, so instead she found herself curling up in the king's lap, staring off at the wall and the floor, alternating between the two to keep herself from falling asleep. He kept his gaze on her face as he watched her grieve for something she'd already lost long ago, her will to keep going. Her fight was strong, but her will was not.

Later, after he'd found her corpse, he'd remember exactly what he'd been thinking that night. He hadn't stopped her, even upon knowing she'd take her own life to stop from having to see her son's face when he was given to Frieza. She couldn't stop it, but she could escape it. Her honor had been broken the night she'd chosen to give herself up.

He remembered walking up to her body, lying on the bed in a heap with a cut across her delicate throat. Her black eyes stared in a seemingly empty gaze, but he knew what she was staring at when she'd passed. She was staring at the two faces she loved the most.

He'd stroked her hair, much like she'd done to him when he'd come back from a mission stressed and tired, and pressed a tentative kiss upon her cold lips before calling the guards to have her body removed.

Then, he'd looked his sons in their eyes, and tell them that their mother was gone. That hell had found it's way into their lives, and it was up to them to change it.

When they grew up and looked back on it, he hoped they'd keep that in mind before they finally closed that chapter of their lives.

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><p>AN:

I know, it's a lot darker and stranger than my other oneshots, but I wanted it to be that way. When I think of King Vegeta, this is what I just happen to see. Hopefully you guys enjoyed my attempt. Please don't forget to **review**.


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